


Seax

by livrelibre



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Character of Color, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Knifeplay, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-29
Updated: 2011-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livrelibre/pseuds/livrelibre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unbetaed; concrit welcome. Written for <a href="http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/">Kink Bingo</a> for the blades square. Contains unnegotiatied knifeplay and painplay.</p><p>According to Wikipedia, a seax is a "Germanic single-edged knife, used primarily as a tool, but may have been a weapon." Be glad you got puns; it could have been Bryan Adams songfic.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Seax

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed; concrit welcome. Written for [Kink Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) for the blades square. Contains unnegotiatied knifeplay and painplay.
> 
> According to Wikipedia, a seax is a "Germanic single-edged knife, used primarily as a tool, but may have been a weapon." Be glad you got puns; it could have been Bryan Adams songfic.

Knowing how she felt about him, Clay was a fool to let Aisha bring a knife to bed, but he'd always felt a little danger added spice to the proceedings. It was probably another symptom of how fucked up the job had made him but whatever. And given his long track record of dangerous partners, it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. If he got burned, well then he'd been there before (and he resolutely didn't think of the long line of clusterfucks from Janine and the car bomb on down to Roque and their last time up close and personal with a knife). At least Aisha had earned the right to scar him back as much as he had scarred her. And if he was going to go, what a way to go out. A sharp prick at his jugular brought his attention back to her face.

"Am I boring you?"

"Never sweetheart." He smiled, eyes still on her and not the blade at his neck. If she was going to do it, he'd barely feel it and wouldn't have time to do anything about it until it was too late. Plus her eyes always told the story more than anything she said. "Please carry on."

Aisha snorted and lightened the pressure, dragging it down his neck and tracing the lines of his collarbones. He let the sensation wash over his skin and suppressed the shiver. She was a fucking artist with a blade, here no less than anywhere else. Clay could believe her stories about collecting ears, over-the-top though it may have seemed. She would be the kind to make the last thing a man heard her husky whisper to carry down into the depths and to collect the prizes afterward.

"If I’m not sufficiently diverting, I can think of other things to do." Clay barely felt the cut over his heart until it started to burn. He sucked in a breath as it expanded in a line connected straight to his groin, tightening when she pressed a thumb to the cut, sharpening the sting with the salt of her fingers and smiling.

"Oh you always have my attention." He waited until she lifted the knife again and then twisted up to catch her arm and spin them around so her back was to the bed. He ended up on top with the knife at his neck, barely held at bay. He chuckled. If she was serious it would have been **in** his neck (or side or sternum) in a heartbeat.

He twisted to lick his blood off the blade, looking back to find her eyes growing impossibly deeper and darker.

"I can think of better places to stick things," he said and rolled his hips between her legs, feeling her as hot, wet and soft there as she was hard and unyielding otherwise.

She let her lips curl in an unwilling smirk and pulled him in, sheathing the knife in the headboard and him in her in two deft moves. Clay's eyes rolled back in his head. Oh yeah, he might have scars after Aisha got done with him, but what a way to go.


End file.
